Even The Scars
by serialhugger
Summary: Request fic. For FunkyKiwi, who asked for a longer more in depth look at an existing serialhugger fic, Just The Fach That She Does.Ibiki/OC pairing.
1. Prologue: Casualty of War

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi who asked for more Just The Fact That She Does.

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Prologue: Casualty of War**

Exhausted and wounded, his senses too jumbled to make out much of what was going on around him; Ibiki could still tell that he was not in the damp cell he had occupied for the past few weeks- The air lacked the musty smell of the small stone compartment. Vaguely he could make out voices surrounding him.

"He's wounded!" Female. He hadn't heard the voice before, it didn't belong to any of his captors... at least none that he had encountered so far.

"We are aware." Male. To the point. Muffled, probably by a mask- ANBU, maybe.

"He needs treatment," the same female, agitated. If she was concerned about treating him then it was safe to assume he was back in Konoha or at least one of the outlaying villages. His escape had been successful.

"He will be admitted, Chunin-san," Male, but not the same as before. Muffled like the first though, there was a slight edge in the tone; Ibiki wondered if the man was subtly hinting for the woman to know her place, "as soon as he's been debriefed." Two masked men and one female of Chunin rank.

"I don't think so; out in the field you call the shots ANBU-san, but when it comes to the wounded, _we_ are the law. Got it?" A medical ninja. He felt relief.

Who ever she was, she had guts. Ibiki groaned, a sickly pained sound, as his weight was forcibly shifted against the first ANBU's side; then there was the slight smell of smoke. Transportation jutsu, he realized, wishing that the ANBU had at least let the medic heal some of his wounds before taking him in to the interrogation rooms.

* * *

**Note:** _The requests are being worked on and are in various stages of readiness. Thank you to everyone who did request something, for being so patient._

Hugs & Oreos!  
Smurf


	2. Ch1: Stupid ANBU

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic. Request: A more in-depth fic spinning from Just the Fact that She Does. For: FunkyKiwi

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, Naruto Shipuuden, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter One: Stupid ANBU**

Sachi was fuming; who did those ANBU think they were, disregarding a medic's assessment like that? It was reckless, it was disrespectful, and it was... it was... "Stupid! Stupid ANBU," she muttered, shoving several files unceremoniously into an open drawer, "stupid war... stupid- Ow!" she rubbed at her shin where it had connected with a metallic corner, "Stupid filing cabinet!"

"I hear you got into a fight with ANBU, Sachi," an older woman dressed in all white spoke, not bothering to look up from the file she was reading. "Third time this month isn't it?" It was clear to her, even without looking at Sachi's file, that her young staff member had a quick temper.

Sachi's head snapped in the direction of the voice; she hadn't even heard the other woman's approach. "I-"she wasn't sure what to say, in any case, it was pointless to deny it and she didn't feel like she should have to apologize for it either; she had been right, "I did."

The senior medical ninja smiled then, finally looking up from the file, "Good girl; sometimes those idiots need to be taken down a peg or two." She could see the confusion written all over her junior's face, "You aren't in trouble; it was a good thing you did, trying to get that boy into treatment. They wouldn't have pulled that trick on any of the older staff."

Sachi resisted the urge to smile at her supervisor's choice of words. Trust the old bat of the Medic-corp. to talk about ANBU as if they were little boys playing pranks on their classmates. "Thank you. Um... About that patient-?"

"Oh, don't thank me just yet," the senior medic glossed over the question completely. "You may not be in trouble with any of us," the medical corp., Sachi inferred, "but a complaint has been filed- several actually." The woman shook her head before closing the file and directing her full attention toward her junior.

Well that was just marvellous, Sachi groaned inwardly, having one complaint on her record was bad enough, but several...? Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself to receive her punishment, whatever it might be. She hoped that she didn't wind up on laundry detail; she always managed to shrink everything, somehow.

"You've been suspended for the next three days."

"Suspended! But-" that was too much; the village had incoming wounded every day, even more so now that their village had been drawn into a war. It was essential that every Medical Ninja the Leaf village had was available for duty whenever a new batch of casualties was brought in. A suspension wasn't only unfair; it endangered patients.

"Three complaints, three days," The senior medic reaffirmed, "it's only a temporary suspension, Sachi; the disciplinary committee were persuaded to believe that your..." the older medic searched for the word, "behavioural issues have been brought on by stress, and so they've decided to be lenient."

Lenient, she barely withheld a disbelieving snort, what a joke. "But..."

"Three day's Sachi, I don't want to see you in uniform until that time is up," the words filtered into the reception area from around the corner, causing Sachi's argument to die on her lips.

"Damn it!" Sachi growled kicking at the filing cabinet, "Shit! Ow, ow, ow..." She really had to stop doing that or at least start wearing closed toed shoes. "...Stupid ANBU," she muttered glumly sinking down into one of the reception desk's chairs.

* * *

Hugs & Oreos  
Smurf


	3. Ch 2: Ibiki Hospitalized

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing (or whatever), please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Ibiki; Hospitalized**

"I can't find anything, Sir." Ibiki was barely conscious as he listened to what was going on around him. He recognized the speaker's voice from earlier- today... yesterday? He wasn't sure how long he'd been in the stark interrogation room. "It is safe to assume that Morino did not give away any information while imprisoned."

"He doesn't seem to be under the effects of any jutsu either," a new voice; it was familiar; he just couldn't seem to place it.

A loud grunt came as the only reply, reverberating off the walls, echoing slightly in Ibiki's ears.

"Come on, Morino," said the man with the voice Ibiki felt he knew, but couldn't quite place before hoisting him upward, "let's get you to the hospital," those words were the last thing Ibiki remembered before drifting out of consciousness.

*** *** ***

Sachi looked at the hospital, lower lip caught between her teeth, as she debated whether to go inside. She had been suspended, so technically she wasn't supposed to be there at all. However, she wasn't in uniform, and she didn't plan to overstep her boundaries by doing any actual work. Moreover, nobody could stop her from entering as a visitor.

"Right, then..." she entered through the front door, feeling oddly out of place now that she wasn't in her medical whites, or her chunin vest, and headed directly for the Intensive Care Unit. Sachi knew most of the patients in that ward, some from her days at the academy, most from working on them when they had been admitted.

The room at the very end of the corridor caught her attention. That room, she knew, had been empty just last night. Now there were people- solemn faced medics- exiting it. Curiosity got the better of her and she found herself headed in that direction. She stopped only briefly to peek at the chart that hung on the door, careful to pay attention to her surroundings. It would not end well if she were caught pouring over a patient's chart when she was supposed to be suspended.

Her eyes widened as she read the chart. The patient's injuries coincided eerily well with the man she had argued over the previous evening. Some people never forgot names; Sachi never forgot injuries... especially not ones so severe. Torture had been her original assessment, and looking at the chart now, she could tell she had been right. The wounds listed weren't one's that could be inflicted during combat.

Taking one final look at the name typed neatly on the front of the chart, "Morino... hm?" Sachi hung it back in its place and slipped silently inside the room. She looked at the various tubes protruding from his body and winced; he didn't look like a proud shinobi, lying prone in a hospital bed the way he was, he seemed small, and fragile. Strange really, because he was over six feet, and broad shouldered, more so than most of the men she knew.

"Stupid ANBU," that seemed to be her mantra of sorts lately. Sighing, she sat in the visitor chair placed near the room's sole window. "They should have listened to me," There was no doubt in her mind, that if he'd been admitted immediately, when she had suggested it, that there would have been no need for half the medications listed on his chart.

She continued to watch him sleep, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, wondering what he had looked like before the heavy damage done to his face, and what he would look like once the wounds had healed and the bandages were removed. She wondered if he would have many visitors; if he had family that would sneak him foods that he liked, or an extra pillow, or if he had friends who weren't on the front lines, or away on missions, who would come and sit with him the way she was doing now.

"You know, Morino, the one thing I don't like about this place?" Sachi directed the question at him, even though she knew he wouldn't answer. "The other medics bedside manners; they suck. The nurses aren't too bad though, unless they're provoked. So when you wake up, just remember to be nice to the nurses." She continued to talk to him like that, about nothing at all in particular, flitting from one topic to the next stopping only when the patient began to stir.

"Morino?" she eyed him carefully. He was sweating, his breath was coming faster than it had been, and low moans were escaping his lips every few seconds. She moved from her position on the chair, to the foot of the narrow hospital bed. "Morino?" she tried again, but got no response.

A nightmare, she concluded. "You're okay," she spoke in a soft tone, remaining a safe distance from him. Patients in the throes of a nightmare could become suddenly violent, especially when heavily drugged, "You're safe."

*** *** ***

Ibiki awoke with a start, he bolted upright, disorientated, his eyes unfocused, and only dimly aware of someone speaking to him. His whole body ached and felt heavy, his head was fuzzy, as if he'd been drugged, there were tubes attached to his arm, and he had no memory of how they got there; clumsily he tried to get up.

"Morino, don't try to move, you'll hurt yourself." It was a woman speaking to him, he knew her voice, but he didn't know how, or why.

He could recall being captured, the sounds of long screws and his own bones scraping against each other sickeningly, needles filled with liquids in varying colours... knives... hurt... someone- him- screaming, and questions... so many questions; some he didn't know the answers to, and some he did, but didn't let on that he did.

"Morino, no," Sachi cried as she watched him raise his hand to rip out the I.V.'s in his arm. "Morino, stop," she was across the room in an instant, her hands covering his own, keeping him from pulling at the tubes. "Morino, listen to me," she tried, "Listen. You need to stop."

He didn't pay her any attention; jerking away from her hands, he began pulling at the tubes again. Sachi reached for the call button, pushing it three times in rapid succession, before attempting once more to stop the large man from doing anything that could impede his recovery.

"Morino, I know this is- shit!" she bit into her lip. For someone as badly banged up as he was, he packed one hell of a punch. "Ugh..." she groaned, getting to her feet again, this time catching him by the wrists, using her body to pin him to the bed. "Listen to me, you're safe here, you need to stop, before you hurt yourself."

"Let go," his voice was low and full of malice. Sachi swallowed hard, her eyes flitting to the door, where were the medics? They were supposed to be monitoring him. They should have responded to the buzzer by now.

As if on cue, Sachi heard the tattoo of feet pounding against the floor at a fast pace, she let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. "It's about time," she growled.

"Shit," one of the medics breathed, "hurry up with that sedative!"

"Move, Murimatsu," ordered a second voice. Sachi didn't comply; she had absolutely no intention of moving until the sedative was administered.

"Shut it!" she snapped, just barely managing to keep the large bodied patient in check.

"Done!" someone else cried out, a few moments later Sachi could feel the patient's muscles relax.

"Morino, I'm going to let go of you now, okay? I want you to listen to me," she relaxed her grip, raising her body off him slowly until she was in a sitting position on the side of the bed. "You're safe, I promise. You're in Konoha. I'm a medical ninja. You're being treated at the Konohagakure Hospital. Do you understand?" she kept her sentences short, concise, so that he'd have a better chance of understanding in his delusional state.

Ibiki looked up at the speaker blearily and nodded, his entire body feeling sluggish. He was in Konoha; he was home. He could relax.

"Good," Sachi smiled then, releasing her grip on him completely, "that's good. Just rest now, alright?" She continued to murmur soft assurances until the sedative had taken its full effect and lulled him into slumber once more.

She stood then, turning to face the group of medics who had responded to her distress call, she had broken the rules of her suspension by involving herself as she had. She should have pressed the buzzer, and stood back, let them do their jobs without her assistance, but they had been slow, and he would have reopened his wounds if he continued like that; she'd had no other choice but to step in.

"What are you doing here Murimatsu?" a male medic ran a hand through his hair. "You've been suspended, remember?"

"I'm here as a visitor," she defended herself sharply, "besides, if I hadn't been here-"

"I know," he cut her off mid sentence, before looking over at the bed. "He's got enough painkillers and tranquilizers in him to put out a water buffalo; we didn't expect him to wake up for another day at least."

There was a long silence, broken finally by the male medic's sigh. "Go home, Sachi, alright? And the next time I tell you to move, do it. Visitors aren't supposed to get involved in patient treatment."

"Yes, sir, I'll be back tomorrow," she smiled and ducked out the door before he could protest.

* * *

Hugs & Oreos

Smurf

_~every time you don't review, an agent of the EMSS is born._


	4. Ch 3: Lucid Meetings

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Lucid Meetings**

The second time Ibiki awoke, it was far less dramatic. He was unsure at first, when he opened his eyes, one eye really, since layers of gauze and bandages covered the other, and saw the stark white of the hospital room. Slowly though, he began to remember; he had been found, debriefed... and then admitted to the hospital; everything after that was a little fuzzy, he assumed because he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness and heavily medicated.

"Oh, you're awake, Morino," he turned his head toward the door. A girl- she couldn't have been much more than sixteen- stood there carrying a plain brown paper bag. "Do you feel like eating today?" She eyed the clear plastic tube that had been delivering nutrients to his system intravenously since he had gotten out of the O.R. "Nothing too heavy though... just some soup."

Ibiki eyed her carefully, trying to place her but found that he couldn't, "Who-?"

"I'm Sachi," she introduced herself by her given name and nothing else. Unusual, he noted. "Have you had many visitors today?" she handed him a container and a spoon before settling in the chair across from the bed with her own.

He watched her from his position on the bed, "Why are you here?" he demanded.

"I was curious about you," she answered honestly, in between sipping her soup. "Maybe I should say I was concerned." Comprehension dawned on him; she was the medic, the one who had argued with the ANBU members. That explained why she was so interested in his well-being; it was her job.

"How bad is it?" Ibiki couldn't see the extent of the damage through all the bandages, and none of the other staff had bothered to let him know much. They had just kept insisting that he would heal up nicely given time and physical therapy.

Sachi stopped, mid-sip, looking Ibiki in the eye. "I'm not assigned to your case..."

"But you're familiar with it," he interpreted her hesitation.

She nodded slowly. She had read his chart a few times now, and driven Yoshino crazy with questions about his treatment. His case was special to her; he had gotten her suspended. No, that wasn't fair; she had gotten herself suspended, but he had been at the heart of it. Her refusal to defer to ANBU and their orders had been what had landed her the punishment.

"You'll heal up just fine," she began cautiously, the way his jaw tightened told her he didn't want kind reassurances, he wanted facts. "There will be heavy scarring," she continued.

Ibiki snorted, he had known that much. The type of injuries he carried guaranteed scars, nasty ones too.

"The ANBU that found you were able to heal your more pressing wounds to some extent before brining you in, they aren't trained medical ninja though, so a lot of it was sloppy, and needed to be redone. We," she meant the medical staff, "were able to set your bones, but there were some that needed to be re-broken to set them correctly. Your left hand," she gestured at the hand in question, "was a mess. Some of your older wounds had healed over already, though not too well, and your leg," she gestured again to the leg that was set in a plaster cast from his foot to his mid thigh, "will require a lot of physio."

"But I'll be able to walk normally."

She hesitated again, "You should be able to, yes," she nodded slowly. "It will always be weaker than the other one though."

Ibiki took in the information she had given him, sorting it all out in his mind. "The scarring, how bad do you think it will be?" he already had a suspicion, but...

"Most of your scars will be easy enough to hide," she hedged, "Long sleeves, pants, wearing your headband as a bandana..." she made the mistake of looking him in the eye then. "Your scars will be bad, Morino," she sighed, "They may even frighten some people."

Civilians, he translated her meaning, his scars would be bad enough to frighten civilians, possibly even some of his fellow shinobi.

"You're one hell of a fighter though, Morino, most people would have given up," she looked at the bandage covered man a moment taking in how little of him had remained unscathed. A scrap of flesh here a patch of skin there... Sachi doubted very much that the physical scars marking his body would be the worst of them.

Ibiki watched the young medic, only one or two years younger than himself, waiting for her to continue; there was more left unsaid, he was sure of it. He made a noise at the back of his throat pressing her to finish.

"You'll be recommended to a therapist. Nobody can force you... but it's been suggested that you should go." She'd witnessed a few of his nightmares since that first day. He needed all the help he could get.

Therapy, Ibiki nearly choked on a mouthful of the soup she had brought him. He supposed that if he squinted just right, he could see the sense in it. But going to therapy meant retelling and reliving everything he had undergone. He didn't want to go through that, he wasn't ready to go through it all over again- not yet, possibly not ever.

One question answered, Ibiki placed his container and spoon down on the table next to the bed, and prepared to ask the next. "How long have I been here?" there was no use in beating around the bush. Sachi had already proven that she was ready to answer him without being prepped or prodded.

"In Konoha? You've been here since Thursday." She finished the last of her soup.

"And, here?" he asked.

"You were admitted on Friday, in the early morning; it's Monday now."

Five days, he had been back in Konoha for five days, but he only really had memory of two of them. He furrowed his brow trying to recall any of the time in between Thursday and today, but couldn't.

"I've got to go," the sudden break in the silence that had fallen over the small hospital room brought Ibiki back to the now. "My break is almost over," she explained placing the used containers and spoons in the paper bag on her way out the door. "See you!"

Then she was gone.

He wondered if this was a usual thing for her- spending time with the patients in a casual setting or if he was somehow a special case. How often had she stopped in to visit him? Did she sit with him when he was unconscious? Did she talk to him?

'_...be nice to the nurses...'_ a little voice popped into his head then, causing him to frown, where had he heard it, when had he heard it?

"I ran into Murimatsu around the corner, what did she bring you today?" A woman Ibiki had learned was named Yoshino spoke as she checked his I.V.'s, and marked something down on his chart.

"Murimatsu," Ibiki tried the name.

"Sachi, she was here, wasn't she?"

So her family name was Murimatsu; he liked Sachi better, he decided. "Soup."

"Ah. Did you manage to eat any of it?" Ibiki nodded, and Yoshino made another mark on his chart. "That's good. We'll be able to take you off of this," she tapped one of the many tubes he was connected to lightly with the end of her pen, "soon."

Ibiki found himself wanting to ask the bespectacled twenty-something about Sachi's visits. He was caught off guard when Yoshino answered the question. He hadn't realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud, but apparently, he had, unless Yoshino had some sort of telepathic ability- He doubted that though.

"Sachi's motives are her own, nobody really knows why she does anything half of the time, but she's usually right," He looked up at the bespectacled woman as she spoke, not feeling too disappointed by the lack of answer, he hadn't expected much of one anyway.

Yoshino injected something, a painkiller perhaps, into one of his tubes. "She's young, but her patients are some of the best looked after we've got. You're lucky she's decided to adopt your case."

Lucky; Ibiki replayed that phrase in his head. He supposed the older woman was right. If not for Sachi, he'd have spent the past hour with only himself for company. He'd spent untold hours locked away in a cold, damp cell. Alone, was the last thing he wanted to be- at least for now. It wouldn't be so bad when he could move on his own, when he had his freedom and mobility back, but for right now, he was grateful for the company she had afforded him.

* * *

**Hugs & Oreos  
**Smurf

_~every time you don't review an agent of the EMSS is born_


	5. Ch 4: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 1

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi  
**  
Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC  
**  
Author:** Smurf  
**  
Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.  
**  
Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Long Road To Recovery Pt. 1**

"How's the patient today?" a nurse Ibiki recalled only vaguely asked cheerfully.

He opened his mouth to reply- _'...remember to be nice to the nurses...'_- "Fine," he settled on the response. It wasn't likely to get him stuck with that god-awful gruel the last nurse he'd been curt with had given him to eat.

She smiled then, and he knew he'd made the right decision. "That's good to hear," she continued, that cheery smile still firmly in place as she backed a trolley in through the door. "Here," she slid a tray over his lap, "One of the medics asked me to slip you this."

Ibiki eyed the tray, lifting the lid curiously. Food. Real food, not the nutritional but bland, and slightly chewy food the hospital offered. "Who-?"

"Hm? Oh," the nurse set out a glass of apple juice and a napkin, "a young one; a new trainee maybe. She was so polite when she asked though, so I didn't see any harm in bending the rules just this once." Her smile seemed to brighten then, "Maybe you've got an admirer."

An admirer? No. He snorted at the thought; he'd never been the type to attract admirers. An over considerate medic that was one-hundred and fifty percent dedicated to patient post care, however? Yes. He seemed to attract those like no other; first had been Sachi, and then Yoshino.

"Enjoy your meal, Morino-kun," the nurse rolled the trolley out of the room and headed to complete her rounds.

It wasn't long before two familiar faces poked their heads into his room. One, a scarred man who wore his hair up in a high spiky looking ponytail, his arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling, and the other, Yoshino.

He felt faintly disappointed that a third face wasn't among them. "What is it?"

"Don't get grumpy with me," Yoshino sent him her best behave-now-mister-or-else glare. She would make a wonderful mother, he decided. "We came to visit." She eyed his lunch tray a long moment, "I see Sachi's been sweet talking the nurses again. Like I said," the woman's voice was light a stark contrast to the no-nonsense demeanour she'd confronted him with only a few seconds before, "lucky; Sachi's patients always get the best food."

Ibiki raised one eyebrow... or rather the area where his eyebrows had been, they hadn't grown back yet, and he doubted they would, the follicles there had been too badly damaged by the heated instruments his torturers had used.

"She flirts," the ponytailed man explained, "that's the best way to describe it."

"Shika, she does not," Yoshino frowned at the ponytailed man, jabbing him in the side lightly with her elbow.

Ibiki thought he could faintly hear the ponytailed man mumble about something being troublesome before he said, "If she were a man, you'd call it flirting."

Yoshino thought on that a moment. She supposed she would, at that. Subtle flirting though, not the bash-you-over-the-head with it kind most of the men she knew used to garner women's favour. She just complimented them on their work often and occasionally on their shoes, or a new hairstyle, and always referred to them by name- at least the ones that she knew. She had never once called them "Hey, You", or "Girlie".

Most of the nurses at the hospital were civilians; some of them- especially since war began- were volunteers. A lot of the medics, as well as the patients tended to forget that, and expected them to react to things the way trained shinobi would. Sachi never did, she treated them gently, letting them know when they'd screwed up calmly. She always waited until she was in private to explode about a missed injection, or shoddy paperwork, or any of the thousand and one other things that could go wrong in a hospital from day to day.

"_Nurses are a Hospital's life line, without them we're screwed."_ Sachi had told her once. _"They keep everything going while the rest of us run around like headless chickens, trying to keep up with casualties." _

"I... I guess you're right."

Ibiki's expression then was unreadable. For a moment, he had a mental image of the slender medic leaning against the edge of the reception desk chatting up the nurses, a sly grin on her face, jarringly similar to the one he had seen Genma use on occasion.

"Always remember to be nice to the nurses," Yoshino recited, "it's one of Sachi's favourite pieces of advice."

That caught Ibiki's attention. The little voice that had nestled itself in the back of his mind the past two weeks had been Sachi's. It also answered a question that had been nagging at him since his first lucid encounter with the young medic. Sachi had visited him when he'd been unconscious, and obviously had a one-sided conversation with him at one point.

Ibiki popped a piece of sashimi into his mouth as he contemplated everything Yoshino and Shikaku had said. Sachi, it seemed, was always entertaining, even when she wasn't there.

* * *

**Hugs & Oreos  
**Smurf

_~every time you don't review and agent of the EMSS is born._


	6. Ch 5: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 2

**Title:** Even the Scars  
**  
Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi. The prequle (I suppose) to Just The Fact That She Does.  
**  
Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC  
**  
Author:** Smurf  
**  
Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.  
**  
Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Five: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 2 **

"So," Ibiki watched Sachi as she rearranged the daisies at his bedside, she was obviously displeased about something, he just didn't know what, "you refused to talk to Saiko, huh?" Ah, there it was the reason for her irritability. He didn't answer her, he didn't need to, the question had been rhetorical, anyway. "Why?"

"I don't need a therapist." Sachi frowned, the way he had said that, so firmly... He really believed it.

"Hmm- and you think that because?"

He looked at her, uncertain how to respond to that. There was something about the way she was standing that told him any answer he gave would be incorrect; it reminded him of Yoshino. They were obviously spending too much time together if they were starting to mimic one another's quirks. What he eventually came out with was a very intelligent, not to mention articulate, "... Erm..."

Briefly, in that moment, Ibiki felt like he was once again nine years old, squaring off with his academy sensei over why he had thought it prudent not to do his assigned homework.

"I don't need a therapist," He repeated. "I'm fine."

"It would be good for you," Sachi flopped into the visitor chair. "Hey, I'm just saying," she held up her hands defensively when he glared at her with that one uncovered eye of his. "I can't force you to do it though."

Damn right she couldn't. He didn't want anyone else poking around his mind dredging up things he'd rather have left alone.

Sachi wisely chose not to push the issue. She'd have Saiko keep his name on file though, just in case he ever changed his mind.

"Why did you send her? You knew I didn't want to see her." He rested his head against the slightly stiff (no matter how many times he fluffed it) pillow while staring up at the ceiling.

"Wasn't me. I'm not assigned to your case, remember?" No, actually, he hadn't remembered. He saw her more often than he did the medic assigned to his care.

He let out a heavy breath, "I don't want a therapist."

"So don't go to one, you do need something though, Morino. And more medicine isn't it." She was already starting to think he was becoming too reliant on the sedatives his care team kept injecting into his I.V.

Ibiki frowned, "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she cocked her head to the side.

"Call me Morino instead of Ibiki. Even Shikaku calls me Ibiki, now." She'd been his constant companion for a little under a month, surely she felt comfortable enough around him to call him by his given name.

Sachi looked at him a moment, "Because," she stated in a well-duh tone one would expect from a moody teenager, "you've never asked me to." It was then, that Ibiki remembered Sachi wasn't a twenty-something medical ninja with ten years of experience behind her. She was a sixteen year old who had gotten a field promotion to chunin just a year or so ago; she _was_ a moody teenager, they both were.

"What do you think I should do?" He asked, feeling less peevish now that he could think of her as a peer, rather than a professional.

"I think therapy would be good for you," Sachi had her knees drawn up under her chin again. Ibiki marvelled that she never got stiff from sitting like that.

"I don't want-" his scowl was back.

"A therapist, I know," she rolled her eyes. "A sounding board, maybe."

"A what?"

"Sounding board," she supplied. "Someone you can vent to whenever you need it, that'll just let you." She shrugged when he didn't answer. "It was just a suggestion."

Ibiki thought about that, someone to vent at when he needed it... He supposed she had meant a best friend, someone he could talk to about whatever whenever; too bad he was fresh out of those.

* * *

**Hugs & Oreos  
**Smurf

**Note:** The Long Road To Recovery is an arc that cover's Ibiki's hospitalization, there are about five more pieces before it comes to an end and the rest of the story begins. Just be patient, k?  
~ Janey

_~everytime you don't review, an agent of the EMSS is born._


	7. Ch 6: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 3

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi  
**  
Pairing:** Ibiki/OFC  
**  
Author:** Smurf  
**  
Warnings:** This piece of fiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being; (Or at least it will eventually) if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.  
**  
Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired fic-writing, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Six: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 3**

"Hey, mister, are you a mummy?" Ibiki couldn't figure out where the small slightly mumbled words had come from. He couldn't see anyone in the room at all, and for a moment, he thought he was having auditory hallucinations. Then, he felt it, something small and warm and slightly heavy cuddling itself into his right side.

"What the fu-?" There was a small hand covering his mouth.

"Shh! If Mommy hears you she'll be mad," the toddler took his hand away and looked around the room as if expecting his mother to pop up and scold them. Satisfied that she wouldn't, he looked up at Ibiki expectantly.

"Uh... What?"

"Are you a mummy? Dad let me watch a movie with him and there was a mummy, and it was dressed like you. Are you?"

Dressed like-? The bandages he realized belatedly still completely befuddled at having a toddler suddenly plop himself down in his lap. "I'm not a mummy."

"Oh. You got hurt?"

"Kid," Ibiki looked down at the small child, redirecting the line of questioning, "where are your parents?"

"Mommy's here for a ketchup."

A ketchup? "You mean a check-up?"

"Yeah! She gets to stop wearing her glasses today."

"And your dad?"

"He went to see 'Noichi."

"Right," This was getting him nowhere. "Kid, why don't you go find your parents?"

"Can't. 'M lost."

'Great,' Ibiki thought, then shifted his weight, making ready to swing his legs over the side of the bed so that he could reach his crutches.

"What're you doin'?"

"We're going to go find your parents."

"Too troublesome," the kid leaned back against the pillow and turned his head so that he had a clear view out the window. "They'll find me sooner or later."

"Won't they get worried?" Ibiki had a good idea who the boy's parents were just from looking at him. At any rate he was definitely a Nara.

"Yeah, but it's okay; Mommy'll yell at Dad a whole lot then she'll clean the house and she'll feel better." He didn't bother to turn his face to look at Ibiki, his eyes too focused on the scenery outside.

Ibiki blinked, there was no way a lost child should be so calm. He reached for his crutches again and stumbled.

"Whoa, careful." Sachi caught him, Yoshino grabbing his elbow to help correct his position.

"See, told ya." The child said blandly.

"Shikamaru?" Yoshino looked at the boy on the bed, her eyebrows knitting together. She wasn't wearing the barely tinted glasses that usually graced her face.

Ah, so she was the kid's mother as he had thought.

"Shika-chan, what are you doing here? Where is your father?"

"He's visiting 'Noichi," the boy, Shikamaru, sat up then. "I got lost and then I found the mummy-man, but he isn't a mummy, he's just got an owie, so he's wearing band-aids like the ones Dad had on his arm."

"Mummy?" Ibiki thought he saw Yoshino's left eye twitch. "I knew Shikaku was letting you watch horror movies, I just knew it," she was muttering. "Come on, Shikamaru," she picked the little boy up, "let's go find your father. He has a lot of explaining to do."

"Yamanaka's on the third floor," Sachi offered, waving goodbye to Shikamaru as he waved back over his mother's shoulder. She turned her face a quarter turn so she was looking at Ibiki. "Now you've met the whole family. He's cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Ibiki said dryly, "cute."

"Why didn't you press the call button if he was bothering you? Someone would have come and got him; he's well known around here." She stifled a chuckle when she caught the blank expression on his face. "Don't worry, mummy-man," she helped to ease him back onto the bed. "Shikamaru won't have much reason to visit the hospital now that Yoshino can return to active duty."

"She's not a nurse?" that was news to him. He'd seen her at the chunin exams a few years back, but when he'd met her again at the hospital, he'd assumed she'd transferred to the medical corp. in some capacity or another.

"No, her eyes were injured; she's been volunteering here until they were completely healed over." Sachi arched one eyebrow, "She was given basic training once her vision cleared if that's what you're getting at."

He didn't get a chance to react to that before a grumbling middle-age nurse was pulling Sachi out of the room and down the hall.

*** *** ***

Sachi looked at the nurse pulling her down the hall strangely. "I'm not a retriever you know," the nurse muttered forebodingly. "Can't you medics work your problems out amongst yourselves? We've got enough work to do without playing flunky to you lot."

Oooh. Someone was cranky. "Excuse me, but you can let go of me now." Sachi stopped, tugging her wrist out of the other woman's hold. "Now," She smoothed her sleeve and took a few steps forward waiting for the nurse to catch the hint and come along, "explain to me what exactly is going on, please." She was very close to losing her temper- the last thing she wanted to do. The young medic had spent the better part of the past year developing a comfortable working friendship with the nurses, blowing all of that hard work with one burst of temper simply wasn't worth it.

The slightly greying nurse flushed a dusky shade of pink, "I- I apologize." She changed direction walking toward the administrative wing. "I don't really know what's going on," she sighed before continuing, "I was just told to fetch you."

And not too politely, Sachi would wager, given the woman's attitude and the slight edge in her voice when she had said the word 'fetch'. Nothing like a nurse with a bee in her bonnet, she mused.

"There you are," the words held a note of exasperation. "You just can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble, can you?"

"I'm sorry?" This time she didn't have any idea what she could have done wrong. She hadn't been fighting with ANBU, she hadn't been late to work, she hadn't messed up a single operation, or stepped one toe out of line.

"Murimatsu, it's been brought to my attention that you've been interfering in the treatment of Otori's patient."

"Interfering?"

"According to the complaint, yes," the woman's sharp eyes flickered from the sheet laid out in front of her, to Sachi's slowly reddening face.

"Am I going to be disciplined?"

"I don't see any reason for it, no," the woman crumpled the complaint, letting it fall into the waste paper basket beside her desk. "I've already interviewed several of the nurses working in that ward. They all say the patient refused Otori's recommendation of his own will." She leaned back in her chair, "As for the other charge, the patient in question isn't under your care, so there is no conflict of interest."

Sachi looked at the older woman a long moment replaying the odd statement in her head repeatedly trying to make sense of it. "Conflict of... Wha-?"

"I don't want to see you in here for something stupid again, Murimatsu," she interrupted, "No more cause for complaints. That will be all." When Sachi didn't move, the older woman stood, moving around her large desk to guide the medic out of the room. "You're dismissed Murimatsu. And do try to remember that some people's toes are more delicate than others."

Thoroughly confused, Sachi remained standing perfectly still just outside of the now closed door a long moment before heading back toward the main part of the hospital. "What the hell was that...?" she murmured quietly going over the conversation in her mind. Otori had filed a complaint about her interaction with his patient. Otori only had one patient. Sachi saw red.

*** *** ***

"Hey, Dad," Shikamaru looked up at his father, "Why is Sa-chan killing the filing cabinet?"

Shikaku shrugged and stared in mild amusement as Sachi glared at the poor, abused piece of office furniture while hopping on one foot and muttering darkly. "I don't know, why don't you ask her?"

Shikamaru looked from his father, to Sachi, to the now dented filing cabinet and back to his father. "Too troublesome."

* * *

Hugs & Oreos  
Smurf


	8. Ch 7: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 4

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi who asked for a longer look at the existing serialhugger fic Just The Fact That She Does.

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fanfiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being (at least it will eventually); if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired insanity, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 4 **

"Mm-hmm... Good... Good..." A short man in his mid-twenties flipped through the chart that had been hanging on the door. "I see you've been keeping up with all of your physio appointments," Ibiki didn't answer. The man didn't expect him to, Ibiki knew from experience; the medic just liked to listen to the sound of his own voice as he scribbled down quick notes in the ever growing chart he held in his hands. "You're making good progress."

Ibiki added to his mental tally; so far, the man, Otori, had used the word good eleven times since walking through the door. It seemed to be one of the few adjectives the medic knew, he'd used it to describe Ibiki's progress every time he had checked up on him. Bandages tightened, wounds checked, chart looked over and updated, temperature taken, rhetorical questions asked, the check up should have been complete- Unfortunately, not everything happens the way it's supposed to.

"Now, about the other half of your rehabilitation," the medic stood far enough away to avoid any sort of physical outburst, Ibiki noted, but not far enough to make his nervousness noticeable. The medic had no talent for reading people, Ibiki decided, if he had, he would have known positioning himself for retreat wasn't necessary.

"I believe I made my decision on that clear," his tone was harsh; "I do not need a therapist." Ibiki made sure he enunciated each word carefully, speaking slowly, hoping that maybe this time the shorter man would get the point.

The smaller man took an involuntary step backward. Ibiki snorted; he still couldn't stand without the aid of crutches, what did the medic think he could possibly do to him? "Right, well that's..." Good, Ibiki waited for him to finish. "Unacceptable." Well, that was different. "Your mental state plays an important role in your ability as a ninja of Konoha. You could be unstable-"

"He could be," a new voice chimed in, "but he hasn't shown any obvious symptoms. No paranoia or suicide attempts. Not according to any of your records at least." Both men froze turning their heads to stare at the older woman. Ibiki noticed a slight stiffening of the medic's posture. "I'm assuming you have been keeping accurate records on your patient, Otori."

"Yes, ma'am," The short medic answered immediately.

"Then stick to his physical treatment; it's what we do after all."

"Y-yes ma'am," his face took on a panicked quality when she took the chart from his hands and hung it back up in its place. "Ma'am...?"

"You're examination is over, isn't it?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Don't you have other duties to attend to?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he scrambled out the door.

"Idiot," Ibiki uttered under his breath.

"So you're what all the fuss is about," There was something in her tone, and the way she looked at him that made Ibiki feel as if he were under a microscope.

"Ma'am?"

"I heard arguing and thought it was Murimatsu again; I'm actually a little surprised it wasn't." Pleased as well, Ibiki could hear it in her voice. "I'll be going then," she stopped just outside the door and offered him a faint flicker of a smile before disappearing out of sight.

*** *** ***

Sachi's mouth pulled down into a frown, "It's not funny!" She swatted at Shinya's shoulder, "Hey, stop laughing!"

"Sorry, sorry," he tried to control his laugher, "It's just..." and failed, miserably.

"Ass," she mumbled, drawing her knees up and burying her face in them to hide her blush.

The man brought his hand down on top of her head lightly, ruffling her hair, "That's no way to talk to your big brother."

"Hey," she glared up at him, her hands lifting in an attempt to smooth out the mess he had made, "I just got it all brushed out, you jerk!"

He shrugged, opening the cupboard above him to grab a glass, "So? Do it again, you've got time." He turned on the faucet testing the temperature with his finger before deciding to let it run a few seconds. "More importantly, when do I get to meet this guy?"

"Shinya," she snapped, "I already told you it isn't funny!" She paused in the middle of finger combing the newly formed tangles from her hair. "I don't -" the look her brother fixed her with was disbelieving.

"The lady protests too much," he filled his glass; turning off the faucet he turned to face his little sister, a teasing smirk on his face, "I never thought I'd see the day you pulled a Florence Nightingale."

Sachi rolled her eyes, "That's when a patient falls in love, dummy, not the care-provider." The renewed laughter caused her to realize her slip, groaning she buried her face once more in her knees. "Stupid Jonin," she moaned, "Nothing but trouble since you've been back."

"Brat," Shinya countered. "C'mon, hurry up," he tugged at one of the four braids she wore in her hair, "I'll walk you to the hospital."

"I'm not working at the hospital today," She was wearing her chunin vest, not her medical whites, so that much should have been obvious.

"But you said...?" he arched a thick eyebrow.

"I'm at the west gate today," she stole a slice of tomato from his plate. "That's out of your way isn't it?"

"Aw, man, and here I was looking forward to getting a chance to embarrass you," Sachi had to smile at the teasing grin her brother wore on his face.

"There's always tomorrow," she offered up a grin of her own.

*** *** ***

Ibiki checked the clock that hung above the door in the Physical Therapy ward. Four-forty-seven; he'd been there for a little under an hour but somehow it felt like twelve. It was difficult to move, and his physical condition, though improving still left much to be desired. It was frustrating not being able to move the way he was used to.

"Okay, that's enough, I think." Ibiki let out a short relieved breath. "You're doing great!" Makoto was cheerful as always. A good trait for someone in his line of work to have, Ibiki could appreciate that fact. Makoto's job was to encourage his patients into doing their best to ensure recovery, having a ready smile and a streak of optimism a mile wide came in handy for that he supposed.

A nurse made her way toward them, his crutches in hand. "Here you are," she was a timid one, he noticed. "Let's get you back to your room."

"Un," he shifted the crutches slightly, adjusting them to get his balance correct, before following the tiny brunette woman out the door.

"It must be nice now," she started slowly, "that you've gained back some of your mobility."

"Uh, yeah." What was he supposed to say to that? 'No, I'd really rather have stayed immobile and locked up in that white on white box you people call a room'?

"You're not as frightening as I thought you'd be." Now that was straight from out of the blue; Ibiki tried not to let any of the surprise he felt show. He kept his muscles relaxed- as relaxed as they could be at any rate- and didn't stop dead in his tracks, though that had been his first inclination.

"Oh?"

"Hm, the way Saiko and Otori have been describing you, I expected you to be an ogre." She giggled then, actually giggled. "Makoto seems to like you well enough though." Ibiki didn't bother telling her that Makoto liked everyone, even the cantankerous old man who came in twice a week for spinal treatments. "Murimatsu does too," there was no laughter this time, only a smile. "You two are the talk of the office you know."

No, he hadn't and he wasn't too happy about it now that he had. "What's being said exactly?"

"Oh you know, the usual," the nurse opened the door at the end of the hall for him to pass through. "Some think it's sweet, others think it's unprofessional; there's a lot of gossip about how exactly you two met. I think I overheard one of the nurses saying you two must have known each other before, otherwise why would Murimatsu have taken on two ANBU the way she did..."

Ibiki listened as the nurse continued to rattle on. It was amazing the wealth of information one could obtain with just the slightest of promptings.

*** *** ***

Shinya looked up from examining produce in time to see a familiar flash of navy, green and brown zip by. "Sachi?" He watched figure a moment, trying to determine if it had been his sister or another nin. That Kurenai girl looked an awful lot like Sachi from the back- a lot of kunoichi did. Brown hair wasn't uncommon and neither was the uniform; the braids though, four of them tied loosely, two at either side of her head, was all Sachi.

Tossing some money at the grocer, he gathered his purchase and headed in the direction he'd watched his sister disappear in only moments before. It wasn't difficult to follow her, she hadn't been trying to avoid him, and he had a hunch where she'd been headed anyway.

"I thought you said you weren't coming to the hospital today," he leaned over her shoulder slightly, chuckling when she startled.

"I said I wasn't working at the hospital today; there's a difference. What are you doing here?"

"Annoying you apparently." There were times, this being one of them, in which Sachi wished her older brother hadn't been born so jovial. "So, who are we visiting today? Do I get to meet the guy that got you so red in the face?"

"How old are you?" She cocked one eyebrow, a habit both siblings shared.

"I think that was supposed to be an insult," Shinya looked amused, "but it couldn't be; not coming from my sweet, gentle little Sachi."

"I swear, Mom must have dropped you on your head as a baby," she muttered wryly.

"Nah, Mom was always the careful one remember? It must have been Dad."

Sachi let out a groan, "Fine, come on, you can come eat with us."

So that was what was in the bag. Shinya paused watching his sister walk through a door numbered 204 as if she'd done it a thousand times before- she probably had at that.

The person on the other side of the door wasn't what he'd expected. He was covered from head to toe in layers of bandages, medical tape and gauze. Mostly to protect the wounds that still hadn't healed over completely from coming into contact with anything that could potentially cause infection, he assumed. Well, at least he knew it hadn't been a pretty face that had attracted his sister's affection. It had probably been all the injuries- Sachi hadn't ever been able to ignore someone or something that was wounded. He'd worried about that a lot when she'd first decided to become a ninja, though he was somewhat glad for it now. Being a medical ninja suited her.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Sachi directed the question at the man sitting on the narrow bed. "We brought food..."

"It's not five-thirty yet," the man returned.

How old was this person, Shinya wondered. His voice didn't sound like a kid's; it was deep and had a slightly gravely quality one would associate with an adult; he was bigger than most of the teens Shinya was familiar with too. He'd have to remember to steal a look at the birth date printed on the chart hanging on the door when they left.

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something, brat?"

Sachi looked back over her shoulder, as she handed the bandaged man a container and some chopsticks. "Oh, right. Ibiki, this is my brother, Shinya. Shinya, Ibiki." She looked at the second container a moment before declaring that she'd be right back and heading out of the room.

Shinya wasn't sure what to say, and the man in the bed wasn't offering much in the way of conversation. "So, mission gone bad?" he questioned taking in once more the extent of the wounds.

"You could say that." There was a long silence following that response.

"So, I've got to ask," Shinya piped up, uncomfortable with the quiet that had stretched out far too long as far as he was concerned, "it's the whole big brother code thing, you understand- but, uh, so... you and my sister, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"She likes you," Shinya continued, taking a seat in the chair by the window, "I don't know if she knows it or not, but she's pigheaded, so she'll probably deny it until someone shoves the truth down her throat. What about you?"

Thankfully, Ibiki was spared having to make any sort of reply when Sachi returned carrying a spare paper plate and chopsticks from the cafeteria.

When the siblings left, Ibiki leaned back against the hospital issued pillow, and stared up at the ceiling. The village rumour mill must have been working overtime for any of the gossip to get back to Sachi's family so quickly.

* * *

**Hugs & Oreos;  
**Smurf

Smurfy's been sleeping practically 24 hours a day since contracting a rather nasty stomach flu, so updates may be a little slow in coming for a while.

~ Janey


	9. Ch 8: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 5

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi who asked for a longer look at the existing serialhugger fic Just The Fact That She Does.

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fanfiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being (at least it will eventually); if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading now. It is also AUish, and ignores Idate's existence completely.

**Notes:** Smurfy has been rather sick lately, but she did manage to type up two very short chapters she then combined into one. This is the result. She seems to be feeling a little better, so updates should come a little faster now that she's not sleeping so much.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired insanity, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: The Long Road To Recovery Pt 5 **

The first thing Ibiki saw in the morning when he awoke was a pair of large grey eyes. "Hey, did you know that you snore?" Sachi shifted in place on the edge of the bed. "Loud too; I wonder why you didn't before," she reached for something by her feet.

Ignoring her chatter he pulled himself into a sitting position, "What time is it?"

"A little after seven," Sachi held out a paper cup. "Careful, it's still hot."

"Coffee?" he eyed the cup suspiciously taking it into his own hands.

"Don't worry; I didn't get it from the cafeteria. Muffin?"

"It's too early to be chipper, Sachi," he grumped taking the offered pastry anyway. He could almost feel her smile brighten.

"Right. Sorry, I forgot you're incapable of pleasantness before noon," she teased, earning a groan from him. "I hear your release date got moved up."

"Next week," Ibiki popped the lid off his coffee, tasting it before grunting his approval. She hadn't gotten it from the break room either, that stuff was almost as watered down as the brew from the cafeteria.

Sachi winced slightly and Ibiki knew she must have burned the roof of her mouth, "Ow." She pulled a face and put her cup down, "Made any plans to celebrate?"

Ibiki watched her closely, trying to determine if that had been a veiled invitation. He bit into his muffin, deciding that Sachi was too straight forward to pussyfoot around a simple invitation. "Not yet."

She seemed to consider that a moment, her head tilting to the side slightly; before she could say anything, however, they were interrupted by the arrival of two men in flak jackets and whatever it was she'd been about to say died on her lips.

"Hey, no fair," the smaller of the two visitors stopped at the foot of the bed, "I didn't get muffins for breakfast when I was here."

"It pays to flirt with the staff, I guess, Tsumon," the other leaned against the doorframe, smile on his face as he nodded in Sachi's direction, by way of a greeting she supposed.

"The last time you were here, Tsumon, was for a physical," Sachi rolled her eyes, "that doesn't usually doesn't come with a muffin."

"Hey, after all that turn your head and cough stuff, a muffin is well deserved," the longhaired ninja griped.

Laughter could be heard filtering from room 204, as Sachi headed back down the hall. It was an encouraging sound, Otori noted. He decided to postpone his visit; after all, it was easier to deal with Morino when he was in a good mood, especially when he had to get up close to remove his bandages.

*** *** ***

"They're finally coming off for good," A black haired nurse, Ibiki recognized from the last time his bandages had been changed, commented. "I expect you'll be grateful to not have to deal with them anymore."

An understatement if ever Ibiki heard one. He'd finally get to shed the moniker of 'mummy-man' once and for all. "I'd be glad to never have to deal with these damned things again," he griped watching as she carefully set out the scissors and other instruments Otori would be using to remove the layers of bandages.

"In your line of work?" she eyed him, "Improbable." She placed the tray next to the bed, waited patiently for Otori to arrive, not bothering to say anything else.

Ibiki looked at the dressing covering his hands and arms, he'd seen the scars that had been left there, they were bad, he supposed, angry and red, seeing them made him wonder what the rest of them looked like- the ones he hadn't been able to glimpse those times when his wrappings were swapped. Sachi had warned him the marks would be bad; that had been her opinion based on the injuries she'd seen when he'd first been hauled back to Konoha, blood covered and battered. He wondered just how severe, how ugly, they would be.

"Are you ready, Morino?" What was with the Konoha Medical Corp. and rhetorical questions, Ibiki pondered as Otori entered the room, took up a pair of slender perfectly sharpened scissors and began to cut from the foot up. "Hmm, the stitches could have been smaller," the medic mused, running a finger alongside a healed over wound. "I don't think this was one of mine."

He didn't think it was one of his? He was a medic, shouldn't he have known what work belonged to him, and what work had been done hastily by ANBU who had a basic understanding of healing at best? Ibiki's eyes rested on the scar Otori had been talking about, jagged and red, it stood out against his skin. All of them would, he knew, it would take time for them to fade, but even then, they would be noticeable.

The underside of the scissors brushed against Ibiki's skin underneath the bandages, as Otori continued to cut away at the layers of gauze and tape revealing more and more of his damaged flesh. His body was littered with wounds that had been meant to be damaging, disfiguring, painful, but not immediately fatal. Ibiki could remember which wound had been caused by which instrument. The long gash at his side had been caused by a kunai, the one over his clavicle by wire; his scalp was a mess of wounds from screws, heated pokers and other tools common to the work of Interrogators.

"Only a few more and we'll be done," Otori made a quick cut just behind his ear, then set about lifting the corner of the bandage and slowly began to unwrap.

*** *** ***

Scars were badges of honour, that was what the older veterans said, they were a testament to how much a shinobi loved their people, their village; Ibiki knew it wasn't necessarily true, but it was a nice saying. So was, 'Girls like men with scars', but he didn't hold much hope out for that one. He expected people to stare, he expected them to be put off; he did not however expect them to snort in their attempt to hold back a giggle.

"I'm sorry," Sachi snorted again, "really, I'm sorry it's just…" she couldn't hold back her laughter, "Y-your head!"

"My head?" Ibiki didn't quite follow.

"You've got these little patches of h-hair," she chewed at her lower lip, holding back another giggle, "…l-like fuzz," she ran her fingers lightly over one of the dark patches to prove her point, the amused smile never leaving her face. "Didn't the nurse offer to shave it for you?"

"No," but then, she hadn't looked directly at him once the bandages started coming off; she'd been too disturbed by them he supposed. Ibiki hadn't even known he could still grow hair, he'd been almost certain that the follicles had been damaged. "Sachi, hand me my crutches, will you?" he took them when she held them out to him, adjusting his weight on them, and then headed over to the mirror that hung over the basin in the small bathroom.

His right hand raised up to run over the short dark fuzz that spotted his scalp. It felt odd. "I'll have to shave it." It looked ridiculous, like a moulted chick.

"I'll do it for you later," she proposed, coming to stand behind him. "Until then though," Sachi produced something ivory from the pouch she kept strapped to her leg. "Here," she stood on tiptoes tying the fabric around his head like a bandana. "There, that's better."

Ibiki grunted a quick 'Thanks', adjusting the fabric slightly he turned to face her, the corner of his mouth tipped upward at one side.


	10. Ch 9: No Place Like Home

**Title:** Even the Scars

**Summary:** Request fic for FunkyKiwi who asked for a longer look at the existing serialhugger fic Just The Fact That She Does.

**Pairing:** Ibiki/OC

**Author:** Smurf

**Warnings:** This piece of fanfiction portrays Ibiki as a romantic/sexual being (at least it will eventually); if you are squeamish about seeing this character in such a light, please discontinue reading. It is also AUish, and ignores Idate's existence completely.

**Disclaimer:** We, the serialhugger collective, do not own Naruto, or any of the characters and trademarks related thereof, and we do not make any monetary profit from the creation of these works (we simply enjoy torturing the characters of the fandom with our own special brand of insanity); no copyright infringement is intended. We do own Sachi, however, but if anyone feels like stealing her for his or her own plot-bunny inspired insanity, please feel free.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: There's No Place Like Home**

Home at last, Ibiki managed to make it up the six flights of stairs to his utilitarian apartment, before his leg decided to give out. It was a good thing the place was so damned small, it meant he had not had to hobble too far in order to make it to the sofa.

He rubbed at his sore appendage, the way Makoto had showed him, and waited for the ache to subside. It would take a while, his hands working, one with a little more efficiency than the other, before the sharp pain that ran through his muscles dulled, leaving him with little other to do than think.

The apartment was very different from hospital room 204. It wasn't as stark, there was colour on the walls, sort of; it was pale and faded from the sunlight through the windows, and the passage of time, but he could still tell that they were supposed to be yellow. Every apartment in the complex was yellow; they hadn't been repainted in years. It was quieter too; that was to be expected though. Ibiki was a solitary creature by nature, he always had been, he had acquaintances, some closer than others, but pitifully few friends.

His choice and his fault too, he supposed.

He couldn't be around people in normal situations without picking them apart to see what made them tick- That was just how he was wired. It had been easy in the hospital; he had been on drugs most of the time and alienating the staff would have been a poor move on his part. Even still, his solitary lifestyle had begun to alter the day he had awoken to a strange girl bearing soup, whisking into his hospital room as if she had every right in the world to be there.

He'd grown to appreciate the company: the Nara's; they'd been company when he had needed it, less the stark white on white that had been his room started to do funny things to his head. They were friends- the word acquaintance did not properly define their relationship. He had even grown increasingly fond of Shinya, even if the man did display several classic symptoms of a peter-pan complex. Ibiki simply took Sachi's word for it that her older brother had simply been born that way- Optimistic and annoyingly cheerful.

Sachi had been a… friend, too. Was a friend, he corrected. He doubted very much that her interest in him, personal or professional, would diminish simply because he was now an outpatient. He'd studied her over the two months Otori and the nurses on his ward had spent piecing him back together physically, coming to the conclusion that the Konoha rumour mill had hit on something… something that had been exaggerated until it had become unrecognizable, but still maintained that small almost indistinguishable grain of truth.

"_I told you, she's into you, and that she's stubborn; she's not gonna make the first move, dude. This entire conversation is insane- I'm her brother; I should __not__ be playing matchmaker."_

Shinya's matchmaking was pathetic anyway, or maybe that wasn't the right word, it was just… ineffective; he'd been right when he'd called his sister stubborn.

Sachi was going to have to make the first move, Ibiki had decided then and there; it wouldn't work otherwise. She hadn't approached him as a woman (or maybe she had, only very subtly, in a way that left too much room for interpretation), she had approached him as an intimate, true, but not of the sort everyone seemed to have assumed. The relationship between them remained platonic.

For now.

Ah! There, the muscles in his leg had relaxed, finally. He bent his knee, then extended it, repeating the process a few times, making sure it felt up to standard before putting any weight on it again.

***** *** *****

Shinya was watching his little sister as she buzzed around the records room in the administrative wing of the hospital. Strictly speaking, this area was off limits to anyone but staff; Shinya had been sneaking in to visit since Sachi had earned the title of medical ninja. Obviously, security needed to be tightened, or maybe he was just that good.

"You aren't," Sachi didn't bother looking up from the scroll she was examining, "It's just that security doesn't consider you a threat."

Had he been thinking aloud again? Or had Sachi recently developed the power to read minds? Oh, he hoped not, that would just be plain freaky. She was already a big enough pain in the ass as it was.

"No, you weren't thinking out loud," She put the scroll down, and retrieved a file folder, "and no, I can't read your mind; you're just predictable." This time she did look at him, teasing grin on her face.

"Brat," the term, Sachi knew from years of hearing it, was affectionate- at least when it came from her brother.

"Hey, at least I'm not predictable," she shrugged, "What are you doing here anyway?" It was his turn to shrug. "Uh-huh, well, if you're going to hang around anyway," she picked up several other files, scrolls and loose pieces of paper, before depositing them into his arms, "make yourself useful."

"What's all this?" he questioned following her out of the room.

"Research," she walked a few steps ahead of him, "Careful you don't drop any of those; there'll be hell to pay if something winds up lost."

He didn't doubt for a minute she'd take the blame for him if he did manage to drop and lose something, they were her responsibility after all, but still… "Where am I supposed to be taking these?"

Sachi stopped, turned, levelled him with a look that seemed to say are-you-sure-you-weren't-dropped-on-your-head-as-a-baby and said, "Home. Just put them in my room, I have to pick a few things up at the market so I'll be a little later."

"Yeah, yeah," he complained, "Don't you have a bag or something I can carry these in?" As it was, he couldn't utilize his hands, and it would be so much simpler if he could just perform a few easy hand seals and transport himself to their shared home.

"Big baby," she teased, "Momo!" she called to a youngish looking nurse, "Could you get my brother a bag for these please?" she looked at the impressive bundle in his arms, "Uh… make it two."

"Sure," the girl grinned. "Come with me," she beckoned to the Jonin, leading him to the reception desk while Sachi took off in another direction.

***** *** *****

"Passionflower… vervain…hops…" Sachi looked through the different herbs displayed at the apothecary.

"Looking for something in particular?" A woman asked coming to stand in front of the counter.

"Not really, just stocking up," the brown haired girl paused a moment, "Um actually, you carry analgesics, don't you?"

"Analgesics?" the woman eyed her, and Sachi wondered if she wouldn't have done better to keep her medical smock on. "Problems with your joints, or is it muscle pain?"

"Neither and both," Sachi didn't bother to explain, brining her purchases to the counter.

"We've got 'em, how much do you need?"

"Just one tin, for now please. Something strong, but not too strong."

"Medium strength topical pain killer, one tin." She added the cost to the total, "Three-sixty-eight, ninety-two."

"Sheesh," Sachi pulled out her wallet paying for the purchases, "have your prices risen?"

"Supply and demand," the woman shrugged, "with all that fighting recently…"

Sachi nodded. "With things settled down now, do you think your prices will drop again?" The woman shrugged a second time. "Right."

"Thank you for your business, please, come again."

Sachi scowled down at her wallet, she'd have to pick up some extra work… Maybe she could take a few missions to make up for the money she'd just spent. She was sure there had to be at least one mission that required a medic on the team. It wasn't a huge amount of money after all, just enough to make her pocket feel a little too empty for her liking, especially after she paid her half of the bills, and brought home that weeks groceries. Next time, Sachi vowed, she'd go find the damned herbs herself; it would be an inconvenience time wise, but at least she'd have some spending money left over.

She arrived home after she made a couple of more stops and a few more necessary purchases, some two hours after leaving Shinya quite literally holding the bag at the hospital. "Shin, I'm home!" she called. A non-committal grunt told her that he was in the kitchen. "You aren't cooking are you?" Her brother wasn't to be trusted within a five-foot radius of the stove.

"No!" he called, "Just getting a drink," he was in front of her in the next instant, drink cup in hand. "All that junk is on your bed."

"Thanks," she smiled, and then headed down the hall to her room. Rolling up her sleeves Sachi cleared a workspace, and began to pour over the various research materials she had borrowed, notebook and pen resting in her lap as she did. "Ugh, she groaned, it's going to be a long night."

As it turned out, it had been a long two nights, she was exhausted by the end, but at least she had accomplished what she had set out to do… She hoped. It was entirely possible all that work had culminated in failure and there was only one way she was going to find out; she would have to test it.

The Inuzuka would set their pack on her if she asked for a test animal, and it wasn't ethical to test her results out on her patients. Her brother had always been a good guinea pig, but he was allergic to hops, it was why he stuck to rice and plum wines, and avoided stout and other hops based drinks. Annoying as he was sometimes, she didn't want to kill him- well maybe every once in a while, when he did something that really pissed her off… But she was going off on a tangent.

Schooling her thought process once more, Sachi concluded that she'd have to test it on herself. It was the safest bet. It wasn't unethical, it didn't end in her being chased through the village by a pack of angry dogs and their owners, and it didn't result in her brother being rushed to the hospital.

Looking at the slightly greenish powder she had poured into a tin she'd dug out from the kitchen cupboard, she murmured, "Looks like I'm my own guinea pig this time."

Sachi tested her concoction over the course of the week, tweaking the recipe here and there, as she felt necessary, to no ill effect. She felt fine, she was well rested and, if possible, she had slept better than she ever had. All in all her experiment seemed to be a success. Pleased, Sachi packaged the powder, packing it and the analgesic carefully in one bag, while putting the research materials in another.

***** *** *****

Ibiki's attention was drawn to Makoto as the physiotherapist waved to someone in the doorway, he didn't turn his head to look though; he was too concentrated on what he was doing. Standing upright, with small weights on his ankles, walking without the aid of his crutches- it was more difficult a task than it seemed. Exhausting too, especially after the other exercises he had been put through that morning.

"You're doing great!" What was it with Makoto and being jolly all the time? He couldn't recall ever seeing the man so much as frown. Nobody was that chipper all of the time, then again, he wasn't around the man all of the time.

"It shouldn't ever be this painful to move," Ibiki grumbled.

"It's just that your body is still repairing itself," Makoto crouched to check Ibiki's knee. "You've been stretching and doing the exercises I recommended to you at home?" Ibiki nodded. "It shows; your leg is much stronger already."

Of course, he'd been keeping up with the exercises Makoto had suggested for him; he wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible. Feeling helpless and weak didn't sit well with the tall teenager.

Makoto rose to his full height, and nodded again, keeping his eyes on the leg in question a moment before his gaze settled on Ibiki's hand. "How's the hand?"

"Better, I don't drop things anymore," he flexed his fingers slightly, "and I don't have any problems with hand seals." Thank whatever higher power there was looking out for him for that one. What good was a shinobi if he couldn't use his hands? There were other methods of fighting, other jobs a ninja did, that didn't require working hands on, but still, they were an important part of the job.

"Good to hear," Makoto's hand came to rest on his shoulder, "Our time's almost up, so head over to Gin; he'll run you through the cool down."

Ibiki nodded again, a small movement, just the barest inclination of his head really, before picking up his crutches and hobbling over to the man in question. At least this part of the session was somewhat enjoyable.

***** *** *****

Sachi glanced up at the clock as she put the last of the borrowed scrolls in its place. She was cutting it close, but she would still manage to make it to the physio department in time if she left right now. Picking up the small bag she'd left on a table pushed up against the wall closest to the door, she headed in that direction.

"You're just in time," Makoto smiled when he saw Sachi enter through the door. "He'll be finished soon. Got a date this afternoon?"

Sachi rolled her eyes, "Been spending too much time with my brother lately?"

"Murimatsu," he tossed a sideward glance at her, "it's painfully obvious to anyone with eyes that you two are seeing each other."

"Then everyone with eyes," she repeated his words, "needs glasses. We aren't dating."

That seemed to shut him up, but only for a minute, as he turned on her with that megawatt smile of his and chirped, "You should."

She could feel her face start to burn and tried her damnedest to squash the blush down, "Definitely too much time with my brother."

"What's in the bag?" Makoto attempted to peek.

She pulled the bag to her chest. "Toys, you know, handcuffs, vibrators, that sort of thing," she deadpanned.

For a moment, Makoto wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not, neither was the nurse who happened to be only a few feet away. A few moments later, Ibiki was with them, looking at the bag Sachi carried quizzically, not really bothering to think anything of it.

"You ready to go?" Sachi asked the heavily scarred teen.

"Where to?" he asked; they'd made plans to meet for lunch, but not were to go. Sachi's eyes settled on his crutches, then on his leg, walking around wouldn't be very comfortable, or practical for him right now- physio could be draining; she was taking that into account he knew. A glimmer of mischief light in her familiar grey irises and the left corner of her mouth lifted as if she was amused by something; Ibiki wondered a moment what was going on inside her head, especially when her gaze moved almost imperceptibly to rest on Makoto for a fraction of a second.

"Your place," the small smirk was now a full smile, though whom it was directed at was uncertain. Behind them, Ibiki could hear a small squeak; he wondered at that a moment, but decided not to think too deeply on it. The nurse was probably just excited that she had a tidbit, even as inane as it was, to feed to the Konoha gossips.

* * *

**Hugs & Oreos**


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